Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (25 page)

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Authors: Brian S. Pratt

Tags: #friends, #magic, #family, #gods, #war, #dungeon, #struggle, #thieves, #rpg, #swordsman, #moral, #quest, #mage, #sword, #fighter, #role playing, #magic user, #medieval action fantasy

BOOK: Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two
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“We encountered one on the way in, a
woman,” James explained. “Two of your men took charge of
her.”

“I’ve had them combing the hills for
the last two days. Everyone they find is the same. Vacant eyes and
no will of their own.”

“It is their mind,” Miko said. “There
is nothing.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“Any idea how this came to happen?”
James asked.

Illan nodded. “A creature; part man,
part beast.”

“We heard of a talking beast in a
village back down the road,” Jiron said as he turned to James.
“Think it’s the same?”

His eyes flicked from Jiron to Illan
then back before nodding. “It’s likely.”

“Well then, let’s just send out a
hunting party and take it down,” Scar said.

“We tried that,” Illan
replied.

James could tell there was more to the
story. “What happened?”

Moving to the window, he gestured to
the stockade. “Found them wandering around like the villagers a few
hours later.” Intermixed among the scores of townsfolk were the
unmistakable uniforms of his men.

“After that, we tracked the beast but
kept our distance. Then Nerun had the idea of driving the creature
into the mine and collapsing the entrance.”

Jiron nodded. “If you can’t overcome
it, then contain it?”

“Exactly. We figured that once it was
trapped inside, it would starve and eventually die.”

“But?”

Illan sighed. “There’s an intelligence
to the beast and we lost five good men before it entered the mine.
Once there, it remained just within the entrance. My men can get to
within fifty feet of it, but after that, they become like the
villagers.”

“You can’t get close enough to
collapse the entrance unless the beast moves farther into
it.”

“Yes. We’ve tried archers and
slingers, but nothing seems to be able to dislodge it from the
entrance.”

Face bearing confusion, Potbelly
asked, “If it won’t move, shouldn’t your archers be able to kill
it?”

“Arrows and bullets can’t reach the
creature. They slow as they draw near, then once their momentum is
lost, fall to the ground.” He glanced to James. “We think the
creature is magical in some way.”

James remained silent in thought for a
moment. “You said it was half man. What does it look
like?”

“It walks upright as does a man,
though stands head and shoulders over anyone I’ve ever known. A
dark brown fur covers its entire body, except for the belly which
lies exposed. For hands it has claws that curve unnaturally. But it
would have to be its face that disturbs me most.

“Though overall human in appearance,
the face is anything but. The nose is twice as big as yours and
mine and has slits up both sides; dark eyes devoid of white stare
out from beneath a pair of bushy eyebrows; and extending from its
lower jaw are two fangs similar to that of a wolf.”

Jira looked up to Jiron, worry in her
eyes. “What is it, Father?”

Jiron merely shook his head and
motioned for her to keep silent. His eyes remained on James and the
concerned look that had come over him.

“Any ideas on what we’re facing?”
Illan asked.

James paced back and forth, then
paused at the window to gaze at those within the stockade. “I take
it a creature of this sort has not been seen before?” Glancing over
his shoulder, he saw Illan shake his head.

“Never.”

“In that case, either a mage of some
power created it, or…”

“Or what?”

Turning from the window, he
allowed his gaze to flit from face to face before saying, “Or the
creature
is
the
mage.”

Miko nodded. “Let us hope that this
creature is the mage, then.”

“Why?” Kip asked.

“Because, young novice, if the
creature is not the mage, then we may have a bigger problem on our
hands.”

When a confused expression came to
Kip’s face, Father Vickor said, “What he means is that if a mage
created this, there could be more.”

James sighed. “There’s only one way to
know for sure.”

“Go to the mine?”

He glanced to Jiron and nodded. “I’m
afraid so.” Noting the eager look upon Scar’s face, he shook his
head. “Just myself and Miko. There’s magic involved, most likely
powerful. He and I are the only ones capable of defending against
it.”

“Not so,” Scar argued.

Reaching into the front of his shirt,
he pulled forth a silver rune-inscribed silver medallion that hung
upon a silver chain. “I have a charm that will keep me
safe.”

“Ever tested its power?”

“Well, no. But the man who sold it to
me professed its protective properties.”

James stepped closer and placed his
hand next to, but not touching, the silvery surface. He held it
there for several seconds. “You were cheated, Scar.”

Looking indignant, Scar said, “You
can’t feel its power until it flares to life in response to a
magical attack.”

“Truly?”

Scar glanced to Miko just as a bolt of
white light left the High Priest’s hand and slammed into the Pit
Master’s chest. The impact knocked him back two steps.

The blow took everyone by
surprise.

“What was that?” Potbelly
exclaimed.

Miko grinned. “Oh, a little trick I
have been working on.”

“Priest magic?” James
asked.

“Something like that.” To Scar he
asked, “Are you all right?”

The front of Scar’s tunic showed no
sign of the attack. Rubbing his hand along the site of the impact,
he looked at the High Priest and nodded. He then lifted the amulet
and gazed at the runic design. “Maybe it doesn’t work with priestly
magic?”

“Okay, then. My turn.” Motioning to
the others to move back, James cast a grin to Jiron.

“Aren’t you worried someone may
discover there is a mage here?”

“With that creature out there? It’s
going to cover anything I do to Scar.” His grin faded as he turned
back toward Scar. “Ready?” He could see uncertainty in the Pit
Master’s eyes.

“Uh…”

“Sure he is,” Potbelly replied. “Hit
him with your best shot.”

“Knock him through the wall!” hollered
Shorty.

“Just remember,” Miko cautioned, “what
you break, I’ll have to fix.”

James brought his arm back as if to
cast a spell.

Scar’s eyes widened as the arm shot
forward.

As his arm came to full extension, a
small bubble formed in the air and began wafting its way
forward.

“Oooooh, watch out, Scar!” exclaimed
Potbelly with barely restrained mirth. “It’s going to get
you.”

Laughter filled the room as the bubble
reached halfway toward its victim.

Scar laughed uneasily, eyes never
leaving the gently wafting bubble. When it came to within a foot,
he backed away. The bubble picked up speed as if sensing Scar’s
attempt to escape. When his back hit the wall, he held the amulet
up in an attempt to interpose it between the bubble and
himself.

As deftly as a butterfly traipsing
among the thorny spines of a rosebush, the bubble darted around the
medallion and shot toward Scar’s face.

The back of his head
slammed against the wall’s wooden planks as he tried moving away.
Eyes wide with uneasy anticipation, he braced for contact. When it
struck his cheek, a very loud
“raspberry”
noise sounded, followed
immediately afterward by a
“pop.”

Scar held still for a moment as he
tried to figure out just what happened to him.

“Priceless,” laughed
Potbelly.

James grinned and came forward. “Don’t
worry, Scar. It didn’t do anything. Just gave you a
kiss.”

“A kiss?”

Touching his face, he searched for
signs of damage but failed to find any.

“Well, a raspberry then.” Glancing to
the others, he said, “It was a little game Kenny and I played when
he was learning to walk. The bubble would float in the air while he
made his way toward it. When he reached it, it would give him a
kiss and he’d squeal in delight.”

Reaching out, he tapped the metal of
Scar’s medallion. “You got taken, my friend.”

Stuffing the medallion back in his
shirt, Scar mumbled, “Might still work.”

“No, it won’t.” To Illan he said,
“Let’s go to the mine.”

 

A barricade of sorts had been erected
along a hundred foot radius with the mine entrance at the center.
Constructed of logs, stones, and the larger variety of furniture
such as dressers and chairs, it formed a wall six feet high and
three feet thick. The only way to pass was through a narrow,
two-foot wide gap bordered by quilts soaked in lamp oil. Back a
ways from the treated quilts burned a fire; a brace of torches was
stacked next to it.


It hates fire,” Illan
explained when James caught wind of it and eyed him questionably.
“We have the entire barricade prepared to ignite should the
creature try to leave the mine.”

“Is that how you drove it into the
mine?” Jiron asked. “With fire?”

Illan nodded. “My men almost burnt the
forest down, but we got it in there.”

Two Raiders stood guard at the
entrance and snapped to attention upon seeing their leader
approach. Both were young and obviously fairly new to the uniforms
they wore. An older Raider emerged from around the right side of
the barricade.

“My Lord,” the Raider
greeted.

“Captain Ranthus,” Illan acknowledge
then glanced toward the mine. “Is it still in there?”

“Yes, sir. It went farther in an hour
ago and has yet to reappear.”

“Might be looking for another way
out.”

“That’s what we were thinking. I wish
we had a miner to tell us if there is another exit. I’ve had the
men searching but have yet to find one.”

His eyes flicked to those arriving
with Illan. There was no denying the fact that he recognized Miko.
A smile grew upon his face and he made to step forward to greet the
high priest but his greeting remained stillborn when he spied
James. Coming to a startled stop, the color drained from his face
and he took a step backward.

In a quiet aside to James, Jiron
quipped, “Guess he didn’t expect the Dark Mage to make an
appearance.” There was a touch of amusement in his
voice.

James ignored them both and made his
way to the entrance. Pausing before entering the gap, he looked
across a charred expanse toward the mine entrance. The shadows
within were thick and concealed their secrets well.

Trees were scorched and ash covered
nearly every square inch of ground between the barricade and the
mine. Even outside the barricade the foliage showed evidence of
their attempt to contain the creature.

Shorty shook his head. “You weren’t
joking about almost burning the forest down.”

Tinok came to stand next to James. His
hand rested on a knife hilt. There was an eagerness in his eye, one
that James feared might drive him into doing something
rash.

“Stay here with the others. If it gets
past us, do what you can.”

Never looking away from the dark maw
of the mine, Tinok nodded.

James could feel the prickling of his
skin that always accompanied the nearness of active magic. Glancing
to Miko he asked, “Are you ready?”

The light of Morcyth sprang to life
around him. “Yes.”

Sending out his senses, James searched
for the creature. He found it less than a hundred yards from the
entrance. It was not alone.

“Something’s in there with
it.”

“A miner?” Illan asked.

Concentrating on the other presence,
James nodded. “I think so. The only magic is coming from the
creature; tendrils connect them.”

Miko closed his eyes. “Feels like the
creature is feeding off of him.”

“Him?”

The High Priest nodded. “It is a man,
in his thirties. His mind is gone.”

“Might be Chellick,” Captain Ranthus
suggested. “He’s unaccounted for.”

“Whoever it is,” Miko replied, “he’s
growing weaker.”

James concentrated on the tendrils
drawing the life from the man. “We can’t leave him in there with
it.” He had thought to simply bring down the mine entrance, but now
that Chellick was at the creature’s mercy, plans had to be
altered.

“I agree.”

The tendrils drew a
constant flow of energy from the man.
If
he could break the connection…
Drawing on
the knowledge developed while crafting spells for his crystals, he
formed a barrier and severed the link.

In his mind’s eye, he could see the
tendrils snap back to the creature. A god-awful roar followed and
the prickling of his skin increased tenfold as a burst of magic
flared from the creature. The released energy had no direction, no
intelligence behind it. Slamming into the walls of the tunnel, it
caused the ground to lurch.

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